


Ocean, Sky

by zeldadestry



Category: Dollhouse
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-24
Updated: 2009-12-24
Packaged: 2017-10-05 05:27:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/38263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zeldadestry/pseuds/zeldadestry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sierra, Victor, and the color blue</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ocean, Sky

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Apricot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apricot/gifts).



Everything is lovely and still and this is the world they live in.

Sometimes she dreams of a place and when she wakes she tries to remember the word. It is a place with flowers and trees and a fountain. She loves the sound of running water. It is a place where, when she looks up, above her there is nothing but blue.

Sky. She remembers. There is no sky in the place they live. Why?

"Do you remember sky?" she asks Victor.

"Sky?"

"Yes. The place where the clouds live. And the birds."

He shakes his head. "Bad things can come down from the sky."

"Bad things? Like what?"

"I can't remember."

"Don't be sad." She reaches out to gently press her fingers against his furrowed brow. "Don't be sad."

"I'm not," he insists. "I'm with you."

"Sierra? Victor?" Someone nice is saying their names. Everyone here is nice. "It's time for art."

"I like to make things," Victor says.

"So do I," Sierra replies. She wants to reach out and take his hand, but the nice woman is watching them. Maybe she is not so nice after all. Why does she look at them so closely? She wants to whisper to Victor, she wants to tell him she wishes they could be alone, together.

Art hour is lovely. Art hour is beautiful colors, in so many different forms. There are crayons, markers, pastels, and water colors. She loves the water colors best. She loves to dip her finger into the glass of water and then rub it up and down over the square of paint until her fingertip is blue. Then she brushes her hand across the paper, leaving blue behind.

He likes to watch her and she likes to be watched by him. She feels safe when she lifts her eyes to find him turned slightly towards her, smiling.

She likes best when he sits beside her. Sometimes he sits so close that her right leg rests against his left. That is the best warm feeling in the world.

He points to her painting. "It's blue. Is it sky?"

"No." She holds the paper a little further away. She hears a sound when she looks at it, a rushing in her ears, a murmur that goes on forever. "Ocean."

"It's beautiful," Victor says, looking at her.

She looks back. "Yes, it is." She remembers the word now. She leans in towards him and whispers. "Do you remember a garden?"

"Yes," he whispers back.

"I wish we could be alone," she tells him her secret. "I wish we could be alone there, together."

"Together," Victor echoes.

At night, they are in the same room, but that is not enough. She wishes he were much, much nearer. She rolls onto her back and lets her thighs fall open, imagines him above her. He would cover her body with his own. They would become close, closer, closest, but how? Does he remember the secret to all she wants? Together. One.


End file.
